


everything stays, but it changes

by alexanderendrone



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Found Family, Gen, Minor Violence, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Sharing a Bed, Slice of Life, anyways i just wanted to write smth nice, but it doesnt really come up in the fic at all, i kind of almost made dnd characters for beef and etho in this universe?, kind of!! idk theyre like brothers, like their abilities are kind of based off of that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25552660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanderendrone/pseuds/alexanderendrone
Summary: Beef heard the sounds of a fight as he was walking by, and he didn't mean to get so involved. He knew he was a pretty big guy, usually just walking up got whoever to scatter and usually made him a new friend. It didn't work this time. This time all it got him was a slice through his side, a black eye, and his childhood best friend. It all balanced out, he thinks.
Relationships: theres no friendship tag for them im sad
Comments: 24
Kudos: 105





	1. everything stays

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song Everything Stays - Rebecca Sugar

Knife cuts _hurt_ , Beef decided. Not enough to keep him out of future fights, but still. He pried the last guy standing off of the crouched figure, shoving him carelessly to the side. He heard something topple, along with muffled curses followed swiftly by the patter of feet running away. 

"Hey are you ok-"

"Back off," was snarled at him, punctuated by a wild knife swing through the air. It was sloppy and uncaring, and it didn't really take much for Beef to disarm them. He looked down at the knife, it was a very nice one, well kept and-

There were hands at his throat, slamming him back into the wall behind him, knocking the wind out of him. 

"Hey, woah, wait, wait-" Beef started before his brain caught up with what he was seeing. "I- Etho?"

Etho backpedaled quickly, tripping over a discarded box.

"Beef?" He stuttered out, scrambling to stand up again. He stumbled slightly and without thinking Beef reached out to steady him. A hand caught him in the chest, keeping him at arms length as Etho rebalanced.

Beef raised his arms in surrender, voluntarily taking a step back.

"It's, uh, been a long time? I thought... I thought you were gone or something." 

"Oh. No. I was just, away, I guess."

"Oh. Do you, uh, need a place to stay, then? I've got this nice place just a few blocks over-"

"No I couldn't intrude-"

"Come on, you're not intruding, you're my best friend! Come home with me!"

"Pay me first," Etho blurted out, looking surprised at himself.

Beef snorted, raising his arms again, silently asking for a hug.

Etho squinted at him, considering, before gently pressing his hand to one of Beef's in a weirdly soft high five. It was good enough for him.

\--

Etho had followed him home without complaint, eyes darting towards every off sound and sharp movement. So he was a little jumpy, that was ok. Beef could work with that. He was alive, which was more than enough for Beef at this point. It didn't take long to get Etho settled in, a bowl of soup and a fresh loaf of bread set at the table for him, and Beef stood at the kitchen counter carefully bandaging his cut. It wasn’t deep and bled more than Beef felt like it had any reason to, and after he finished he leaned against the counter, watching Etho. 

They stared at each other for a long moment, silence suffocating the kitchen. Beef's eyes flicked between the soup and Etho's face a few times, face scrunched in thought, before something in his mind clicked.

"Oh! I'm, uh, gonna go- I'll go set up the bed for you while you eat! Don't even worry about it, buddy." Beef quickly left the room after that, face flushing slightly in embarrassment. Why hadn't he made the connection sooner? He hurried into his room, face flushing more fiercely for a completely different reason. 

He'd forgotten about the... Memorial? Honestly, looking at it and knowing the subject of said memorial was alive and eating soup in his kitchen made it a whole lot weirder, in Beef's opinion. He didn't really want to dismantle it, though... It was just a collection of little things that reminded him of Etho, a music box, some drawings, and an ornate knife. Things that Etho had left behind before he had... well _left_. 

Beef squinted down at it, humming under his breath in thought. He could just cover it with a blanket? Surely Etho wouldn't question it? He carefully placed blankets and random bits of clothing on it, spending far too long trying to make it look natural.

As he was standing back to observe his brand new cloth mountain, there was a knock on the door frame. He whipped around quickly, hand shooting to cover his heart, a sharp gasp escaping him.

"Oh! Etho! You scared me! Uh, the bed's all made if you want to sleep now? It is getting kind of late." Beef gave Etho an unsubtle once over, his hair was unkempt and looked like it had literal dirt in it. There was a bruise darkening on his temple, and he held himself off balance, clearly favoring his left side. Without thinking his hand reached out to brush across his temple, Etho recoiling slightly before pressing his face into his hand. Beef spoke nervously, made the gestures carefully and exact. It'd been a while since he'd casted any sort of spell, and just hoped he was still able to. 

The bruise faded and Etho straightened up slightly, no longer resting as heavily on the door frame. He cleared his throat sharply.

"Thanks. You didn't need to, I would of been fine-"

"No, it's ok, I wanted to help," Beef interrupted, letting his hand fall from Etho's face to rest at his own side. He nervously glanced around, before speaking again.

"So... You can sleep in here."

Etho hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he looked between Beef and the bed, occasionally glancing over his shoulder. He was nervous, obviously, but over what? Him being here?

"Uh, if you want, I can leave? I've got a few couches I can crash on, it's no big deal, really-"

" _No_ ," Etho said, a little too sharply and quickly. He flinched back, as if startled by his own tone. "I can't kick you out of your own room, or your house- I can sleep on the couch. Or like, in the alley or whatever. It's really not that big of a deal." He was already backing up, as if intent to go snooze in the alley right now. 

Beef's hand shot out, catching him by the elbow and swinging him around to face him again. Etho moved easily with the movement, brow furrowed as he faced Beef again.

"You're- You're not gonna sleep in the _alley_ , Etho! Just take the bed! It's really not that big of a deal-" 

"I'm not gonna kick you out of your bed, Beef, I can sleep on the couch-"

"Come on, don't make this into a big deal, please-"

"It's a big bed! We can both sleep in it." Etho spoke fast, already retreating from Beef's grip as if expecting a negative response.

Beef paused.

He looked the bed over, glancing between it and Etho. They could both fit. It _was_ a big bed.

"Ok." Beef shrugged, walking over to a dresser, tugging out sleep clothes for himself and Etho. 

"Ok?" Etho questioned, unsure as he returned to his spot in the doorway.

"Yeah. We used to do it all the time when we were kids, it's not that big of a deal."

"Right."

"Right! Here's some clothes if you want 'em, I'm gonna go change in the bathroom. Be back in a sec!" Etho stepped past him into the room as he walked out, bumping their shoulders together absently. Beef suppressed a smile as he hurried into his bathroom, changing quickly before waiting outside the closed bedroom door for Etho's ok. 

Just when Beef was starting to worry about what was taking so long, Etho called out a quiet "you can come in", muffled by door and fabric.

"Are you decent?" Beef responded cheekily, already reaching for the doorknob. Etho was sitting on the side of the bed, hands curled in the sides of his mask, looking deep in thought. Seemingly coming to a decision, he flopped back on to the bed, Beef's too big clothes swamping him with cloth, quickly burrowing under the covers, mask still firmly in place.

\--

Etho wasn't sure how much time had passed as he watched the steady rise and fall of Beef's chest as he breathed. He wanted to trust Beef, he really did, but he'd been burned before. Beef was nice, practically his brother, but people changed. Things were different now. He'd assumed that Beef had just forgotten about him, moved on without a second thought. He'd recognized him, though. Seemed delighted to see him, had offered his food and clothes and home. It didn't seem like he'd changed much since the last time he saw him. Well. Personality wise. He'd certainly grown now, but it seemed like he still held about an inch of height over him, something he knew he'd have to rib him over later.

Huh. Later.

Was there going to be a later? Was he going to stay? 

Beef was snoring now, punctuated by little whuffs. Etho relaxed back into the pillows slightly, refocusing on the rise and fall of Beef's chest. He blinked, once, twice, eyes staying closed a little longer each time and-

It was morning. It was morning, the light was coming in through the window, back lighting Beef like a halo and in a brief half asleep moment he thought he had died. But no, he hadn't and Beef's arm was crammed uncomfortably underneath him, and he was staring at him, lost in thought. 

"Were you watching me sleep?" Etho managed to get out around his scratchy throat. He cleared his throat a few times, noting that he'd moved from his side of the bed to be sprawled across Beef, head cradled between his neck and shoulder. His face was sticky with his own drool and he cringed internally at the damp spot on his mask. Lovely. Good early morning first impressions, Etho. He shook himself out of his thoughts, looking back at Beef.

"Uh. No? I was just, looking in your general direction. As you were sleeping." He was flushing slightly, before sticking his tongue out at Etho childishly and scooting out of his personal space.

Etho hummed absently in response.

It was hardly his fault that he was staring, Beef thought. He looked a lot calmer when he slept, and if Beef squinted he could see past all the new additions and see the old Etho he knew so well. He mentally kicked himself, this was still the same Etho, still his friend. He just had a scar over his eye, and said eye had changed from a dark near black to a deep red. And he had a mask. A mask that was currently slipping down his face as Etho blinked sleepily, glancing around the room as he rubbed at his eyes. 

Beef carefully reached out to readjust the mask, and it was like putting glasses on someone else, his hands felt clunky and unsteady and Etho met his eyes, a vaguely amused-vaguely confused look on his face. He batted Beef's hands away, readjusting the mask to fit snugly on his face, before looking around the room again.

"What time is it?" He murmured, not quite ready to be awake yet. 

"Uh... I'm not sure. Probably, like, 8? AM?"

"Hrmm. 'S too early to be awake." Etho decided, after a long enough pause that Beef had assumed meant he'd fallen asleep again. Before Beef got the chance to respond Etho was curling back into his side, face, drool spot and all, pressed back into his neck. Beef could feel Etho's lopsided grin through the fabric as Beef curled his arm around his back, dragging him closer. Etho let out one more soft hum, patting him absently on the chest before he fell asleep again.

Beef pressed his face into Etho's hair, still knotted and greasy, dirt- and was that _twigs?_ \- matted into his hair. Honestly, not that different then when they were younger. Sure Beef's joints creaked louder, he was getting a couple grey hairs, and his back definitely was going to give him hell for the angle he slept at to not disturb Etho sprawled across his chest but he had _missed_ this. Missed _Etho_. 

They grew up together, joined at the hip, and it _hurt_ when he had left, _hurt_ to lose his other half, to mourn for someone he wasn't really even sure was dead. 

And now Etho's back, and sure he's a little bruised, an unexplained injury to his eye and a mask obscuring the bottom half of his face but he was still _Etho_. He still has awful bedhead and morning breath and he's still all elbows and sharp edges, and unbearably clingy on even the hottest of nights. 

And Beef is _happy_ . He feels at least somewhat complete again, and maybe they don't quite fit perfectly together, Etho's knee digging uncomfortably into his thigh, and head forcing him to crane his head back a little, but he was _there_ . His brain tried to recall the story he knew, about pots that were broken but sealed together again by gold and made into something ultimately more beautiful and stronger but he was _tired_ and metaphors were never his strong suit, wordplay was more Etho's thing.

He settled back against the pillows, rubbing circles into Etho's back absently, _just a few more minutes, they'll get up soon..._


	2. cold cold man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Etho had only been around for about a week, but already they’d settled into a routine, a front of normalcy. There were still a lot of things they didn’t talk about, rough edges they couldn’t or didn’t know how to smooth over. Where Etho had gone, what had happened to him, why he’d come back. There were things that they did talk about, talked about everyday, a carefully calculated song and dance that led nowhere but was still significant.

Beef woke up to a shadow falling over him. Etho was standing by the window, intently looking at the lock, the sunlight creating a ring around him. Beef wanted to make a comment, a wisecrack about Etho being a guardian angel, but the words died on his lips when he realized what he was doing.

Apparently Etho _was_ being his guardian angel. Or at least his guardian, as he carefully checked over the edges of the window and made sure the lock was still firmly in place.

It was part of the routine at this point, every morning Etho would get up, check every corner of the house, every window and door, for signs of entry or disarray.

Depending on how well he slept or how he was woken up, he’d do it more than once. On days when he was startled awake, or restless from nightmares, he’d check, over and over until Beef managed to distract him with food or conversation. 

Other days, when Beef woke up before him, he’d just check the once, a quick walk around the house, before settling at the table, well rested and cheerful as he hassled Beef about what he was making.

Those were the good days, when the banter bounced between them, keeping them both busy and engaged. 

Another part of their daily routine was breakfast. Beef would pull out all the ingredients to the sound of either Etho harassing him about vegetable choice and standing too close or the quiet jingle of locks being checked, footsteps too quiet to be heard.

Eventually, Etho would settle at the table, back to a wall and with both doors in eyesight. Beef never brought it up but he saw through the casual facade. Saw the paranoia that had made its home in Etho’s routines.

Eventually they’d both settle at the table, Beef with his back to Etho, fully focused on his food. It was usually quiet, the only sounds were the scraping of forks on plates and the birds that so lovingly, and _loudly_ , sang for them.

Then, they’d go about their days. Beef would stand at his shop’s counter, or run errands, or clean, and Etho would disappear into the side alley.

He sometimes hung around the store, like a moody cat, alternating between standing too close and hiding in the farthest corner. Beef would greet customers with his best service smile and Etho would fade away again, put off by the people.

Then would come dinner. Etho would reappear from whatever he’d been doing, seeming to have some sort of intrinsic sense of when dinner was being started.

At first, he’d just sit off to the side, quietly observing with a piece of commentary here and there. As he settled in though, he got a little more hands-on. 

“Aw, Beef,” he cooed one night, curling his arms around Beef and burying his face in his shoulder. “I haven’t seen you all day!”

His voice was sugary sweet and laced with bad intentions. He retreated fairly quickly, going back to the table and plopping down with a huff. Beef looked down to start cutting a carrot only to notice the cutting board was empty.

Did he even grab one? He’d gotten distracted with Etho walking in, so maybe he’d just thought he did? He glanced towards Etho, noting his hunched figure and turned back and everything clicked.

“If you wanted a snack you could have just asked,” Beef said, adopting a scolding tone as he stood with hands on hips to stare Etho down.

Etho just batted his eyes at him, delighted grin crinkling his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Etho finally said, voice dripping with fake innocence. Beef snorted as he realized it had taken him so long to respond because he was still eating. 

“Sure.”

After dinner was another routine, a song and dance so well versed Beef was sure he could do it in his sleep.

“You take the bed tonight,” Beef led the waltz this night, hands coming to rest on his own hips, his best attempt at a stern look on his face.

“No, no, no I couldn’t- You deserve it, really!” Etho responded, right on cue and on beat, “you made dinner after all!”

“Hm... You helped with breakfast, though,” Helped was a strong word, and by the amused crinkle between Etho’s brows he knew it too.

Etho sighed, dramatic and accompanied by a half shrug.

“I guess we’ll just have to _share_ then,” He said. They did this every night, the same dance, the same routine, the same conversation, slightly different but always adjacent. Still, he looked nervous, his voice lilting slightly unsure, still worried about being rejected.

“If that’s alright with you,” Beef responded, stern look and hands on hips dropped for a softer more concerned expression, hands outstretched and projecting kindness and certainty.

“Yeah! ‘Course.” Etho brushed past him, already going to Beef’s dresser to get clothes to sleep in without prompting and it made Beef happy, small victories like these showed that Etho was getting more comfortable, and that he was happy to stay here. 

After changing Etho went around again to check all the doors and locks, and Beef had assumed he’d been in a good mood, but Etho didn’t come to bed for a while. He could hear the slight jingle of metal meeting hand, the jiggling of the locks, once for each lock in the house.

And then it happened again. And again.

“Etho?” Beef called, trying to mask his concern with neutrality, but he could tell it didn’t work. 

“Yeah, Beefers?”

Beef looked more closely, more analytical as Etho appeared in the doorway. He noticed just how _tired_ he looked, and the way he glanced around the room, and over his shoulder, reminiscent of his first time here.

Back then, he had diffused the tension by talking about sleeping arrangements, but he wasn’t sure what to do now.

They stared at each other in silence, Beef trying to catch his eye while Etho unsubtly avoided his.

Finally Etho stepped fully into the room, then settled into the bed next to Beef. Beef opened his mouth, concern on the tip of his tongue, but Etho cut him off by shaking his head. Sometimes it was better to not talk about things.

Beef didn’t press.

Etho wasn’t sure how much time he had lost, staring blankly at the ceiling and trying not to jump up at every small noise, blanket a thin barrier against the outer world. He was _exhausted_. He wanted to _sleep_.

But he couldn’t stop thinking.

Couldn’t stop thinking about every small noise, the creak of a floor, the wind pushing at the windows. 

It took a second to notice the absence of sound, Beef’s steady snores fading out into nothing, and Etho turned his head to meet Beef’s tired eyes. 

"You're thinking too loud," Beef murmured, pushing himself up on his side of the bed only to flop down on Etho, crushing the breath out of him.

It was nice, Etho decided. He could understand the appeal of weighted blankets.

But weighted blankets weren't immovably heavy with a death grip around his shoulders.

He lightly patted Beef's back, equal small reassurance and silent cry of uncle.

The pressure let up slightly, but Beef still carefully held his shoulders, carding fingers through his hair. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Beef murmured into his neck, voice still thick with sleep.

Etho bit back the immediate _no_ that wanted to come out, brushed away the urge to reassure, _no- its ok- im fine, really-_ and instead tried to seriously consider the question.

Did he want to talk about it? Did Beef really want to _know_ about it? Know about what he’d been through? Know why he was constantly looking over his shoulder, checking the locks, untrusting and distant? It was _hard_. It was hard to talk about, to acknowledge, to admit. 

Some part of him still foolishly clung to _if he didn’t talk about it it’d go away_. 

“Etho?” Beef whispered again, voice softer and gentle as he sat up to try and catch Etho’s eye. His hand left Etho’s hair, dragging across his shoulder and up his neck to brush the tears away. 

Etho hadn’t realized he was crying. He wasn’t _sad_. He was _angry_.

Furious that he couldn’t talk to Beef, open up like Beef could, how Beef _had_.

On the second night of his stay he’d held Etho tightly, sobbed into his chest, and talked about how he had _missed him, how scared he was, i thought you were_ **_dead_ **-

Etho wanted to force his mouth to work, to force the words past his mouth where they caught behind his teeth, stuck behind his fear of judgement, of Beef using this against him, but Beef was his _friend_ , Beef would never _hurt him_ -

Beef dragged him into his chest, humming softly as he ran his fingers through Etho’s hair, letting him cry and not pushing for more information.

Etho fell asleep like that, tears and snot dried to his face, feeling the most safe and understood then he’d felt in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cold Cold Man fucking slaps and im so sad that a lot of songs that i think fit them really well are inherently romantic,,, like please,,, let my aroace self LIVE
> 
> Also there will be one more part!! After that I'm thinking of making a longer fic but I'll talk more about that in the notes of the third part <3!!
> 
> my tungles @letsfluxshitup uwu!


	3. hello my old heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh, I don't want to be alone  
> I want to find a home  
> And I want to share it with you"  
> \- Hello My Old Heart, The Oh Hellos

“Beef? Do you… Want me here? I can leave, if you want. I can find somewhere else.” Etho was sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at it with an unusually serious expression on his face.

“Of course I want you here.” He wanted to follow it up with a joke or a tease, uncomfortable with the seriousness of his own voice, but Etho didn’t need that now. He needed reassurance.

He dragged a hand across Etho’s shoulders, hunching over slightly to pull him into his chest. Etho just let out a soft huff of air before squirming away. 

“Ok. See you at dinner?”

“See you at dinner.” Beef echoed, straightening up while Etho silently left. Beef wasn’t sure if he’d said or did the right thing, but Etho didn’t seem upset or put off so at least there was that. 

\--

Maybe Etho was upset. He didn’t talk to Beef at dinner, staring blankly at his plate, eyes distant and unfocused.

“Etho?” Beef said carefully, slowly moving his hand across the table to brush a thumb across the side of Etho’s hand.

Beef had tried to be slow and obvious, but Etho had startled anyways, looking up at him sharply and confused.

“Are you… Uh, do you want to stay the night?” 

Etho looked at him with wide eyes, blinking quickly as he processed what he was saying.

“I- Yes. That would be- I would like that.” Etho’s words were stilted, and he still looked slightly confused, but Beef saw the tension ease from his shoulders.

Beef beamed at him before clapping him hard on the back.

“Great! I’ll make some popcorn, we can watch a movie!” 

Every once in a while, when Etho got too far into his own head Beef would casually ask if he wanted to have a sleepover. They both knew that regardless of if Beef offered Etho would be staying, but it was nice to feel wanted and to get that gentle reassurance that Beef wanted him there.

\--

Beef didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to be rude but… Etho’s hair was starting to look a little rough around the edges. He’d noticed that Etho took quick showers, in and out in less than ten minutes, barely touching his hair. 

“Is there an issue?” Beef finally managed to blurt out over breakfast, words bubbling out before he could second guess himself.

“With?” Etho prompted after an uncomfortably long pause, eyebrow raised but eyes analytical. 

“Your hair!” Beef said, a little too quickly and a little too loudly. He didn’t want to be  _ rude  _ but he guessed there was really no nice way to say ‘ _ your hair looks like crap you need to take care of it _ ’. So that’s what he said.

“Your hair looks like you rolled in our vegetable patch, and I know you don’t wash it as often as you’re supposed to.” 

Etho looked surprised, eyes flicking between the bowl in front of him and Beef’s unwavering look. 

“So?"

“So?” Beef echoed, confused, “You need to take care of your hair. It’s starting to smell.”

That wasn’t a lie, Etho silently acknowledged, it  _ was  _ getting worse. It was just also getting harder to justify leaving his back to an open room, and being vulnerable for any length of time. 

Etho hesitated, thinking over what he wanted to say. 

“I…” He paused, looking back up into Beef’s eyes. He was staring at him intently, leaning forward slightly with a hand placed palm up on the table, a silent offer. He carefully took Beef’s hand, squeezing it once before focusing on a place just over Beef’s left shoulder.

“I don’t like washing my hair. I have to keep my eyes closed and then I can’t see.” It all came out in a rush, and Beef didn’t poke fun at his phrasing. 

“I see.”

There was a long pause as Beef thought, free hand pressed to his cheek as he squeezed Etho’s hand off and on, following a pattern only he seemed to know. 

“I can wash your hair for you. At the sink,” He paused, looking at him intensely before something else seemed to click. “I can keep watch as well that way, so if anything happens I’ll be here to protect you.”

He spoke seriously, as if Etho’s fear of showering because he was worried he’d be attacked was totally rational. Etho  _ knew _ it wasn’t, that the likelihood that it’d happen was small, and it was something he should be able to just get over.

But he couldn’t. No matter how many times he turned it over and over in his head, he couldn’t set aside the lingering fear that this one time would be it, that if he let his guard down now it’d all be over.

The silence was stretching on too long, but Beef didn’t seem inclined to jump start the conversation or push him into answering. He just sat, watching him and pushing his eggs around on his plate.

“You shouldn’t play with your food,” Etho finally managed to get out, and Beef snorted. It was usually  _ him _ doing the scolding, lecturing him on how he wasn’t eating enough, and  _ didn’t he want to get big and strong?  _ They both ignored the obvious flaw in his argument, that Etho most definitely wasn’t going to be getting any bigger, his adolescent years far behind him. 

Beef still childishly clung to a desperate thread of hope, that he’d grow another inch or so, at least enough to be level with Etho. 

They finished eating, and Beef took their plates over to the sink to start washing. Etho took his place next to him, carefully drying the dishes to put away. Beef had learned that Etho was less inclined to mess with the way the dishes were stacked if Beef was there to watch, and Etho balanced this out by taking much longer than necessary to carefully and excessively dry each dish. 

When they were done Etho bumped their shoulders together, looking down into the water that was swirling down the sink’s drain.

“You can wash my hair. If you want.” 

He ignored Beef’s delighted cry, but easily returned the harsh squeeze he got with fingers dug into Beef’s sides, equally tickling and just hurting. Apparently Etho had “bony fingers”, and at the time Beef hadn’t cared enough to elaborate. 

\--

Beef draped a towel across Etho’s front with a flourish, looking pleased when it fell into place neatly. 

The water was running and it was accompanied by Beef humming under his breath, a tune that felt familiar but Etho couldn’t quite place.

“Close your eyes,” Beef said softly, tipping Etho’s head back towards the sink with a hand on his chin. 

Etho’s hand shot up, wrapping around Beef’s wrist. 

Etho was still wearing the mask, and the rest of his clothes, they’d mutually agreed that getting undressed wasn’t really necessary, but he still felt  _ exposed _ . It felt wrong to not be on guard, to carelessly expose his throat and chest.

There was a long beat of silence, before Beef started humming again, hand carefully moving to cup Etho’s jaw. 

They stayed like that for a long moment, before Etho’s grip loosened and he felt like he could breathe again. He was  _ safe _ here, he  _ knew _ that, his body just wasn’t getting the memo. Staying on edge all the time was exhausting and difficult, but  _ dropping  _ those defenses was just as hard.

Beef looked at him, and Etho nodded curtly. Beef smiled down at him, before working the now warm water through his hair. Etho kept his eyes open, alternating between looking at Beef’s face and whatever small sound caught his attention. Beef didn’t comment on it, instead making faces as small bits of twigs or grass fell out of Etho’s hair. 

“I’m gonna use shampoo now,” Beef said, looking thoughtful. “You don’t have to close your eyes but I’d prefer if you did. I don’t want to get soap in them.”

Etho just hummed in response, looking away from Beef.

The shampoo smelled nice, and certainly looked nicer than anything Etho had used before. Beef had chastised him before about proper shampoo but he’d brushed it off, fancy soap hadn’t really been his priority. It still wasn’t, really, but it was nice.

Beef quickly worked the shampoo through his hair, efficiently cleaning his hair and giving him a nice head massage at the same time. As Beef rinsed out his hair, he looked down at him, thinking.

“I used to work part time at the hair stylist in town.” Beef said, after rinsing out all of the soap.

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” Etho blinked his eyes open, not entirely sure when he’d closed them, to look up at Beef.

“There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know,” Beef responded, oddly solemn. They'd lost a lot of time when they'd split, ten years was a long time to go without your other half.

He physically shook himself out of his thoughts, reaching for a bottle of conditioner. Etho wanted to protest, he didn’t want to waste time, but Beef silenced him with a stern look. 

After working the conditioner in, Beef stood in front of him, staring down at him with another jar in hand.

“Hands.” He didn’t say anything else, but did gesture impatiently when Etho just stared at him.

Finally, Etho held his hands out, palms up, and Beef took one in his hand. Etho knew he’d been overworking, hands sore and callused, cracking and flaking with dried blood. Beef tsked softly, setting the jar aside before getting a bowl of warm water and a soft rag.

He carefully focused on cleaning each of Etho’s hands, the soft rag dragging across Etho’s skin and it felt nice to sit back and be cared for. After Beef cleaned his hands, he opened the jar, carefully working lotion into Etho’s hands, before just curling their fingers together and grinning at him.

Etho snorted, kicking him lightly in the shin. He looked silly. Happy. Etho wished he could express himself so freely.

He paused, and looked around the empty kitchen. Before he could think better of it, he pulled his mask down, flashing Beef a wide grin before dragging it back up into place.

Beef let out a startled noise, before grinning even wider and returning to Etho’s side to rinse the conditioner out of his hair. 

\--

Beef was shifting around a lot on his side of the bed. He was usually a still sleeper, so unmoving and statue like that more than once Etho had checked to make sure he was actually still alive.

But not tonight. Tonight he was flipping from side to side, readjusting his blankets, and lightly kicking his legs.

After another few minutes Etho reached out, steadying Beef's fidgeting hands.

"Sorry- was I bothering you?" Beef whispered into the space between them, looping their hands together and dragging calloused fingers across Etho's scarred knuckles.

Etho just hummed, a nervous tic he'd picked up from Beef in their time together, and sat up. He tugged Beef towards him, letting Beef's head rest on his thigh. He left one hand tangled with Beef's and carded the other through Beef's hair.

“Do you think it’s weird that we sleep together?” Beef said suddenly, twisting slightly to look up into Etho’s face.

“When you put it like that, yes,” Etho snorted when Beef pinched his thigh in response, but continued running his fingers through Beef’s hair.

“I don’t think it’s weird. We're siblings! We used to share beds when we were kids all the time.” Etho finally said, after careful consideration. 

At the word siblings he could feel Beef’s grin from where his face was pressed against his thigh, and it made Etho grin too. He dragged the hand that was still entangled with Beef’s to his lips, pressing his masked mouth against the back of Beef’s hand so he could feel that he was grinning just as hard.

They settled back into silence, and Etho returned to carefully working his fingers through Beef’s hair.

It was getting a little long, he absently noted, and Beef had been coming up with more and more creative ways to keep hair out of his face. Etho's favorite so far was a fork that was so thoroughly tangled in his hair it kept it all immobile.

It had taken ages for Etho to gently work it out, punctuated by Beef's whines and complaints. It could have gone a lot faster, years of lockpicking and pickpocketing backing up Etho's precise movements, but Beef's hair was soft, and it was nice to sit so close to someone, and to touch without having to worry about intent or ulterior motives.

Etho repeated the motions now, gently working out the knots that had made their home in his hair through his restlessness. He cleared his throat and hummed, focusing on the notes, before the tune of a song managed to make its way out.

It was just soft humming, but it had been so long since Etho had done anything similar, and he didn't remember all the notes, missed the beats and the mark, but Beef still relaxed against his leg. Occasionally, he'd hum along where he'd recognize the rhythm but he mainly listened in silence.

The humming petered out after a while, Etho's own eyelids feeling heavy. He nudged Beef aside, settling in between his arms, their hands still curled tightly together. Beef buried his face in Etho's neck, a muffled good night making its way out of his mouth, before he finally settled into sleep.

\--

The next morning Beef woke up to an empty bed and a crick in his neck. He squinted against the sun before rolling out of bed, attention caught by the clanging of bowls being moved around in his cabinets, all precariously placed and on the verge of falling out. Etho’s fault of course, he wasn’t very fond of putting the dishes away and honestly it would be easier if Beef just did it, but they were both stubborn. 

Beef stumbled into the kitchen, stifling a yawn as he rubbed at his eyes. 

"It's a salad!" Etho said, proudly showing off the bowl in hand. "It has lemon, and berries, and lettuce and... uhhhh lemon."

Beef paused, watching Etho shift nervously the longer the silence stretched on.

"Is it... good?" Beef finally asked, reaching for the bowl.

"It's not bad!" Etho responded, sounding disproportionately excited about it. He hovered by Beef’s shoulder, watching his face intently.

Beef took a small bite. It was... acidic. He tried to school his face, but he knew he failed horribly. All he could taste was lemon, and when his vision cleared he noticed just how wet the lettuce looked. He'd assumed previously that Etho had washed the lettuce and hadn't dried it properly, but he should have known. Etho never washed the lettuce. It was a point of contention between them.

"It's... sour. Very sour."

"Yeah! It's good, right?" Etho seemed so excited and Beef almost felt bad. Until he noticed the slight gleam in Etho's eyes, the squinting at the sides of his eyes that gave away how hard he was grinning under the mask.

Before he could comment Etho spoke again.

"I think you should eat more. Get the full range of the flavor." Etho leaned over him, dropping heavily against his back, effectively pinning him to the table. 

Since when was Etho so heavy? He tried to elbow him off but got another mouthful of soggy lettuce in response. Was Etho just scooping it with his  _ hands _ ? 

As his mouth flooded with saliva and lemon, Etho buried his face in his neck, soft snorts muffled between the mask and Beef's shirt.

\--

“Hm.”

“Is something wrong?” Beef sat up from where he was lounging in the grass, readjusting his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes.

“No, I was just- What if we had a garden? I think that could be fun. Have some flowers and vegetables and, uh, stuff. I could take care of it!” Etho’s hands shot out gesturing around the small yard as he more thoroughly explained his idea for a garden. 

It seemed more like he was planning a small farm but Beef wasn’t going to call him out on that. He tried to not read too far into it, it's just a garden, just a small meaningless commitment offered out of kindness. But it was still a commitment. A promise, to stay, and come back, and be home again.

It made him happy. That Etho was happy and that he wanted to stay. That he even had long term plans, apparently, as Etho continued describing how long each plant would take to grow and how to care for them. 

Beef slowly leaned back again, watching as Etho kept talking and gesturing, sounding the happiest Beef had ever heard him, even when he was just talking about where to buy fertilizer.

Wait a minute.

“Isn’t fertilizer just poop?”

“I- Not all of it? I don’t know, I’m not a- a botanist or anything.” 

“Could have fooled me, with all your talk.” He ruffled Etho’s hair absently, fluffing it up as best he could from where he was laying. 

“Whatever you say,  _ mom _ .”

\--

Not many plants survived that summer, but Etho hadn’t seemed too put off by it. 

“There’s always next year!” He’d chirped, before nervously looking at Beef, and quickly looking away. 

He hadn’t asked directly but Beef reassured him anyways.

“Of course! There’s always next year.”

Etho bumped their shoulders together, head tilted away but mask doing nothing to hide the fact he was beaming. 

Beef ’s face hurt from smiling so hard, but there it was, another promise of staying, without coming out directly and saying it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hwuh this was a bit of a toughy but i like how it turned out! finally shes complete! its formatted a bit differently than the others but i hope its not too confusing?? anyways several Author Thoughts:  
> \- i adore the concept of beef being like "hey etho wanna spend the night and have a sleepover" when he notices etho getting more anxious about intruding? like etho already lives there its redundant to be like "wanna spend the night" but its just like that little extra confirmation to etho that beef actually wants him there  
> \- smth that was important to me to convey is that Etho is a very paranoid person? like he's very worried about being like attacked? And it's like, inconvenient! It isn't always useful and he's constantly on edge and it's stressful! A quote I think about a lot is from the Penumbra Podcast, one of the character says "Sometimes it pays to be paranoid. That’s part of what makes quitting the habit so hard: because even if it only saves you one out of every thousand times, you spend the other nine hundred ninety-nine convinced this is the time that counts." I really tried to embody this sort of vibe? Idk I like the quote a lot it's really good, fits the character, and is just, true?  
> \- smth i like a lot is like. the concept of "i want to stay with you" without ever really Saying that? like Etho being like "lets plant a garden, oh it failed? guess we'll try again next year" like. that means he's gonna still be there next year and it's very like, subtext/implied but I think a lot of Beef&Etho's relationship is like that, Etho's too scared to say what he really thinks or wants and Beef's too worried about scaring Etho off. but, theyre kinda learning how to communicate, like Beef tries to get over his fear of overstepping (like how he straight up asked etho if he needed help with his hair) and etho was trying to be more open, like explaining why he didn't like to wash his hair often
> 
> i have a lot of Thoughts on this if you couldn't tell, interpersonal relationships are important to me and those relationships have flaws that can also be improved/worked on! Also the concept of working around things/doing things your own way.
> 
> my tumblr is @letsfluxshitup if youd like to talk more about this au or just about hermitcraft/etho/beef in general, i gotta bit going on over there (i also do art! i havent done anything for this fic yet tho, but i do have a few things for it tagged under 'but it changes au')

**Author's Note:**

> I do have some other ideas for this! I've got a little drabble written, but I feel like I need to fill it out more to be a proper story instead of just one scene? We'll see!!
> 
> my tumblr is @letsfluxshitup, its like my art/fandom tumblr uwu!
> 
> also side note lmao this really isn't meant to be shippy, i'm just a simple aromantic who craves platonic affection
> 
> also also i tried real hard with the spacing and i think it looks ok but fuck if i know???


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